Impudent You
by mew-tsubaki
Summary: M&MWP, oneshot, slash. 1st NEVILLE/LOUIS! Sometimes, all you need is one person to care about you again. Mention if used, thx. *Angst ahead*


**Impudent You**

A HariPo oneshot

by mew-tsubaki

Note: The _Harry Potter_ characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. **This pairing was discovered by me, so please gimme a little mention if you write them! Thanks!** It is one of many of **Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings**, most of which you may find in the **M&MWP forum** (link on my profile). Check out and join the forum FUN! Read, review, and enjoy! :D

- ^-^3

He felt…_old_.

Neville Longbottom sighed and rolled his shoulders, chasing the kink from his neck. Off to his right, Harry motioned to all of them. _On the count of three_, Neville's old friend mouthed. _One…two…three!_

Teddy kicked in the door and there was a great commotion. Inside the perfectly normal house in the perfectly normal Muggle neighborhood in perfectly normal Manchester, nearly a dozen bodies inside screamed or cursed or thrashed or fought their way through the small squad of Aurors. The interior of the residence lit up like the Great Hall at Christmastime as the spells flew. Normally, it only took a matter of moments to round up something like this. For once, it took a few minutes to detain each villain, but Neville had an idea why.

"Not quite the rush it used to be," Ron said wistfully. He, Harry, and Neville kept watch over Teddy and the other younger Aurors as they took charge of the scene afterwards. Ron crossed his arms in front of his chest and exhaled, but it wasn't a sigh. He simply sounded and looked nostalgic.

"Maybe it's a good thing," Neville said. "Going out quietly, I mean." Out of habit, he smiled; it took him a moment to realize he'd done that. Either way, he let it reach his eyes. "Better than ending the night with casting the Full-Body Bind on me and getting into further trouble."

The three of them laughed. "Ah, Neville, you can blame only Hermione for that one," Harry said. His green eyes nearly looked black at this time of night, yet Neville was at ease. In a post-Voldemort world, nothing was scary anymore. Not even Harry, despite what Neville remembered of the chap's Dark experiences in years five and six.

"Right, right…" Neville rubbed his neck, wishing he'd brought a scarf on tonight's escapade. He looked to Ron. "So, some retirement party, eh?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't really care. What's important is that I'll have Hermione off my back, what with my returning to safer work with George at his shop." He eyed Neville and Harry. "You two ought to think about that, you know. Getting out of the line of fire."

"Never happen with this guy," Neville remarked, pointing to Harry. "You ought to know that best, Ron."

They laughed at Harry's "Hey!" "I still can't believe you came _back_ to all this, though, mate," Ron continued with a change of subject. His expression seemed pitying when aimed at Neville.

The brown-eyed man's smile weakened. "Yes, but… Teaching wasn't for me."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look, and Neville felt as if it were the old days again, where something would go right over his head. Ha, he thought; even being adults now, they were still the same characters. "I…should probably head home. It's pretty late," the redhead continued, emphatically glancing at his wrist.

Neville didn't have the heart to remind Ron that he wore his watch on his other wrist.

"I'll catch up with you tomorrow, Ron," Harry said. "Go home. We'll take care of the rest."

Ron nodded and Disapparated on the spot, leaving Neville and Harry to instruct the other Aurors and trainees before everyone returned to the Ministry. Teddy mainly took charge with little of their input, but they were still his superiors, so they made sure no piece of paperwork was overlooked. Though, sometimes, it felt as though Teddy tried to make it so that they had very little to do.

"Sometimes I think he wants to have the Auror Office all to himself," Harry thought aloud while Neville hung around in the doorway to Harry's office.

"Can't blame him," Neville supplied. "He's always admired you, Harry. He's just trying to _be_ you."

"He's not a little kid anymore," Harry replied.

"Neither are we" was all Neville could think to say.

For a brief interlude, there existed only the sound of rustling parchment as Harry tidied up his desk. Then—"Neville, do you really want to be here?"

The other man faced him. "You're only asking that now, three years _after_ I returned to the force?"

Harry grinned wanly. "Oh, come on. It took me six years to notice Ginny existed."

Neville rolled his eyes. "I'm fine here, Harry."

"But you shouldn't just feel _fine_ doing our line of work—"

"All right, then. I enjoy it. It's better than teaching the same thing day in and day out. It—" Neville halted. It was probably best to stop there.

Harry said nothing. He put a few things away and then stood and pushed his chair into his desk. "See you tomorrow, Auror Longbottom."

"See you tomorrow, Auror Potter."

- ^-^3

Back at home—

No, no, it wasn't quite home.

Neville groaned as he tossed his outer cloak on the chair in the tiny living room. Three years, and he'd still not properly furnished the tiny living space he'd bought without thinking.

Granted, he'd not been given a lot of time to think when it had happened. The build-up to his split from Hannah had been a long time coming, but he'd always thought they would've done things slowly and properly. They weren't the types to decide suddenly one night that that was it and that he'd have to leave and that he'd never be allowed in the Leaky Cauldron ever again. He hadn't even done anything and neither had she; it was more along the lines of them forgetting why they'd ever married and finally having given up searching for a reason to stay together.

And Augusta wouldn't take him in. "You're a grown man," his grandmother had said. But he had seen in her eyes that she'd wished for him and Hannah to make up and make merry. She'd liked Hannah quite a bit after some time had passed, even though he and Hannah had never had children.

So a bachelor's living arrangements were for him. It wasn't Neville's first choice, since he'd always lived with someone and had become accustomed to company.

But these days…the only company he enjoyed was his own.

"And now Harry's acting as if I shouldn't enjoy work so much," he muttered to himself as he rifled through his fridge and brought out some leftovers from the meal he'd made the night before.

He paused and gave Harry's remarks some thought. …no, Harry was wrong. There was nothing wrong with quitting Hogwarts and returning to the Auror Office. The Auror Office was thrilling and much more interesting. Surely he could affect more lives there than at Hogwarts. Of course, he did miss the time spent in the greenhouses…but Neville could grow plants any old day. He wanted to be an Auror while he still had it in him.

And he kept that thought in mind for the rest of the night, until he was tired enough that his fake smile slipped off his face and he didn't care so he slept instead.

- ^-^3

"Neville, I've been thinking that we should make some friendly alliances around the Ministry. What do you say?"

There was no turning down the Boy-Who-Won. When Harry called Neville into his office the following morning and opened with this, Neville knew Harry had already made a decision. "Where are you sending me?" Neville asked.

His fellow wizard passed him a folder. "Work with the Hit Wizards for the week. See if there's a way for us to strengthen our relations with them. We don't get as many Aurors as we used to, so calling on them and knowing their talents are where ours should be—well, it could help us with the man-power on some missions." Harry raised his eyebrows; he looked a tad skeptical himself. "…what do you think?"

It was almost nice seeing this side of Harry, knowing it still existed after decades of relying on Hermione for good advice. "It's not a bad idea," Neville said.

"Great—it earned a double-negative."

"Oh, no…! I mean, I'll see what happens. Count on me, Harry," Neville added, and then he exited the department and headed to meet the Hit Wizards.

Neville knew enough about the job. Hit Wizards worked on the small fish while Aurors sought the big fish. Still, there wasn't much separating the two job descriptions. Hit Wizards didn't need to be as brutal, but Neville agreed that Harry had had an intriguing thought: If the Hit Wizards could be prepared for anything—essentially, be Aurors without the official title—then the Ministry would be better off, and Wizarding Britain as a result.

Despite all that, Neville had a hard time focusing while he met with their department head and senior officers, Cain, Low, and Renn. Two of the younger ones, Neville vaguely recalled from school: Malcolm Baddock and Graham Pritchard. But all Neville remembered was that they'd been Slytherins. Not promising.

Cain didn't seem too happy with Harry's idea, but he'd been convinced by Renn that it was worth a shot. Neville's opinion of Renn shot up for that, but she, too, came across to him as feeling as if the Auror Office was meddling where it shouldn't.

"We've got report of an incident a mile north," one of the trainees said, interrupting the meeting. "A young witch and wizard fighting in the street has escalated to magical violence."

"Sounds like we're up, brother," Low murmured to Cain, and he was the first one out of the building.

"Well, you wanted a taste, Auror Longbottom," Renn said to Neville, and he nodded and kept pace with her as Cain led the others after Low.

It didn't seem like much when they got there. In fact, everything had quieted down. Neville almost asked if they had the address right or if it had been a false report when he saw Cain, Low, and Baddock move out of the corner of his eye.

"Stop struggling!" Baddock barked. It took three of them to detain the witch, who bucked like a wild horse.

"Ah!" Pritchard cursed. "Boss, he got away!"

"I'm on it!" Neville said without thinking or waiting for Cain's response. He hadn't even seen the other suspect, but Pritchard gasped, "Blond. Brown eyes. _That way!_" He pointed and Neville tore off, passing even the younger Hit Wizards and Hit Witches, because the male suspect was easy to pick out—he was the only person running on the street.

"Excuse me! Sorry. Coming through!" Neville barked at the Muggles as they turned to watch with curious glances. He could care less about them, though; Cain and the others would take care of things and call in the Obliviators as needed.

He rounded one corner, two, three, four—blocks flew by and still he was in hot pursuit. Neville ran for so long, he wondered if they'd left London.

At last the suspect seemed to be running out of breath, and Neville's heart swelled. So much for feeling old! He had paced himself well enough to wear down the younger wizard…though the bloke couldn't have been all that smart for choosing to run instead of Disapparating. Neville just prayed that the kid wouldn't think of that now that Neville had thought of it.

The suspect turned one more corner after dangerously cutting in front of a bus, and Neville pushed himself just a little bit harder. He rounded the corner and then—

_**THWACK.**_

"ARGH!" Neville crashed hard enough into the suspect that he was sent backwards, and he landed hard on his rump and hit his head against the alley wall. His backside and his head throbbed so terribly that he let loose a string of curses, and he blinked the stars from his eyes and he proceeded, "You are under arrest for…" Neville stopped. Something was wrong. The suspect looked familiar. Plus, he wasn't breathing hard. Had he even been running?

"_Longbottom_?" the blond male said. He was blond and had brown eyes, but Neville was sure he hadn't been chasing this person.

Neville looked past him and squinted past the end of the alley. The suspect didn't turn around, but he did wave over his shoulder—and then he Disapparated. "Goddammit!" Neville yelled.

"Hey." The blond drew his attention once more. He'd already gotten up and now he offered a hand to Neville. "You all right, professor?"

Neville blinked. No one had called him that in three years. He stared long and hard at this person's face. The man had dull blond hair, lightly tanned skin despite the autumn season, and orange-brown eyes that Neville wouldn't call warm. But there was something about the glint in his eyes…

"Ah, it's been a while." The blond grabbed Neville's arm and pulled him up. "I was one of your hundreds of students, professor," he continued as Neville brushed the dirt from his clothes. "Of course, I'm sure it felt for you as though you had hundreds of _us_ alone."

It clicked: He was a Weasley. And there was only one blond Weasley male, if memory served him correct—

"Louis Weasley, professor." Louis clapped him on the shoulder. "Good to see you. But aren't you a bit old to be playing tag in the streets?"

- ^-^3

Neville ran his hands through his hair. "Godric…this is not happening."

Louis sipped his drink. "Mucked things up, yeah? Sorry about that, professor."

After realizing that he was doomed if he returned to the Hit Wizards without the suspect in hand, Neville had decided to take a moment to analyze the situation. Louis had asked him if he was all right and if he'd needed a drink. Neville had sworn up and down that he didn't need the Leaky Cauldron at all right now. And Louis had laughed and said, "Not what I meant, but you _can_ buy me alcohol now, professor."

"Stop calling me 'professor,'" Neville groaned. He held his head in his hands. "I'm such an idiot…"

"Stop calling you 'professor' because you're an idiot?" Louis snorted. "I'll try, but now you've just given me a reason to keep calling you that."

"No, I mean…" Neville glanced at the younger wizard. "Don't you know? I stopped teaching three years ago."

Louis' eyes widened. "Huh. No kidding?"

"And I'm an idiot for letting my suspect escape."

The blond grinned weakly. "Ah, just blame that on me."

"I'm an Auror again—it's definitely on me."

"Yeah, but, you're old. Shit happens."

Neville frowned at Louis' language. "I'm not _that_ old. I'm fifty-one."

Louis shrugged. "I'm twenty-three, and _I_ feel plenty old."

Neville cupped his cheek in his palm and leaned on the counter of the Muggle coffee shop. He pushed the handle around on his cup of cold caffeine. "I really mucked things up, and you're not helping."

"I was never meant to help," Louis commented. "I'm someone who exists precisely _not_ to help." He held out his wrists to Neville. "Here. Shackle me and take me to the Ministry. I'm sure you'll need a scapegoat for whatever happened." The next second, it was as if he'd forgotten his generous offer, for he returned to sipping his hot chocolate. "Which reminds me…what exactly _did_ happen?"

A small part of Neville wondered if he should share what was really police business and if he should confide anything in Louis, whom he barely knew. But another part of him said, _Sometimes you need a stranger's ear_. And though he'd taught Louis for five awful years—because now it was coming back to him that Louis was a terrible Herbology student and hadn't advanced in the subject—and he knew his parents, Louis was the next best thing to a stranger. So…Neville told him. The story was a shorter one than Neville thought, though it seemed so serious and dramatic, because he'd never screwed up so badly in his whole life.

"Uh-huh…" Louis filched a spoon from the man on his other side—Neville frowned at that—and stirred his hot chocolate, which definitely didn't need it. He licked the spoon before offering any more words. "Well…that sucks. I still say you should just blame me."

Neville frowned again. "That really does nothing to help me. Unless you knew the guy?"

"I didn't know your runner. I didn't even get a good look at him as he ran past me right before you ran into me." Louis fiddled with his fringe as if he was thinking. "You could always just arrest me and bring me in. I look like him, don't I?"

"I could never do such a thing!" the lion said, gaping at Louis. "And—and I know your family. And Pritchard saw the suspect. And the female suspect would know it wasn't you. And…and I'm sure you'd never cause such chaos in front of Muggles."

Louis' expression softened. "Thank you for the character appraisal, professor. But I'm not perfect. No one is."

"Yes, but your parents would never raise—"

Something about Louis' posture told Neville to shut up. Louis went back to stirring his hot chocolate.

"I wonder if there's a chance I could describe the suspect as more dangerous than he was," Neville said, facing forward and staring at the menu without reading the items.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a quick smirk. "Looking to pad your story, professor?"

"Well, I _was_ a Gryffindor. I've got to be brave and do stupid things sometimes, yeah?"

Louis shrugged. "I was a Hufflepuff—I wouldn't know."

That pretty much wrapped up their conversation, but Neville didn't feel as though they'd left things on a sour note. He would've paid for their drinks, even, had he been carrying Muggle money on him. Alas, Louis took care of the check. "I can pay you back," Neville insisted.

"It's fine," Louis said. They exited the shop. "It was nice catching up, professor. Nice knowing that you adults are just human after all," he added with a chuckle. "Good luck."

"Louis—thank you."

The blond wizard nodded, and then he continued down the road, while Neville faced reality and returned to the Ministry.

- ^-^3

Harry was trying not to laugh. "Well, that's…that…that will keep them busy for a while."

"Harry, it's not funny!" Neville pouted. Vaguely he wondered if this was what Ron had felt from time to time over the years when _he'd_ done something stupid. Neville's face was burning bright Expelliarmus red. "You should've seen Cain's face. And the trainees. Oh, Merlin, the trainees. They looked so happy that someone besides them had messed up for once."

"Honestly, Neville, don't worry about it." Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the doorjamb to his office with his classmate. "Actually, I'm quite glad this happened."

Neville's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "You _what_?"

"Think about it—the Hit Wizards have a hazardous job, but they are successful a lot more often than we are. They don't make as many mistakes. This gives them a test, to see how they handle a situation getting out of hand." Harry smiled. "Personally, I'm glad that this gives them a true taste of reality."

"Harry, that's awful."

"I think it's the part of Mad-Eye that stayed with me."

Neville couldn't dispute that. "In the meantime, how am I supposed to show my face around there without getting killed?"

Harry removed his glasses to clean them. He'd developed the habit a long time ago, and Neville noticed it was something that helped his friend think. "Just be the Auror you insist you are, Neville. You convinced me to rehire you, didn't you? So throw your weight around. Pretend you're me."

Neville laughed. "I killed Nagini, Harry, not Voldemort himself."

"But without you, I couldn't have done it."

Harry's honesty was flattering, and Neville was humbled. When he put it that way… "All right. I'll continue to deal with them."

"Good. Have more confidence, Neville. You're a war hero. You're a good friend. You're also a good man."

With such lovely parting words, Harry went back to work, and Neville returned to work with the Hit Wizards as the Auror Office's liaison. The week dragged on and the Hit Wizards didn't want to take Neville into the field any more so long as they could help it, so the next several days were rather uneventful.

In fact, they were _so_ uneventful that Neville took an early lunch on Saturday. It had been long enough that his feet no longer guided him towards the Leaky Cauldron, but Neville struggled to find anything else of edible interest on Diagon Alley. He almost left for Muggle London when he walked past a familiar face in the crowd.

"Louis?"

The blond stopped and looked behind him. "Ah, professor." He smiled. "Working hard or hardly working?"

Neville chuckled. "That's an old one I've never heard before…"

"How did it go with the Hit Idiots?"

"That's not very nice. But I smoothed things over, since you asked."

"They're treating you like a first year, then?"

Neville hung his head. "I just…"

Louis laughed and patted his shoulder. "I jest, professor, seriously."

The older man exhaled. "What about you? I'm surprised to bump into you here."

Louis raised an eyebrow. "Really? In the heart of Wizarding Britain?"

Neville didn't get it.

"Ah… Well, I work here."

"Oh?"

Louis ducked his eyes, for once a bit…embarrassed? "I work at Uncle George's shop. I used to work…nearly everywhere on Diagon Alley. I've even worked in a few Muggle places. Uncle's shop is just the latest place."

Neville felt for him. He was so young. To have worked in so many places already… "Are you on break? Would you like to grab a bite?" He smiled warmly. "I was just going to lunch myself."

"No, sorry." He genuinely looked let down. "I'm running late, to be honest. Maybe another time?"

"Sure, sure."

Louis nodded. "Thanks, professor. See you around, yeah?"

"Yeah." Neville waved and Louis headed for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It wasn't until he lost Louis in the crowd that Neville remembered he'd wanted to repay him. "Crap…!" And he still didn't even have any Muggle money on him.

- ^-^3

It wasn't until Monday when Neville remembered the repayment again. But when he did, he initially marched out of the Auror Office—and ran right back in to Harry's office.

"Harry, do you have five quid?"

He'd been stared at as if he'd grown Dumbledore's beard. "Uh, sorry?"

"Some Muggle money. I never really carry any."

"Uh, yeah, yeah…" Harry fished some out of his wallet and passed it to Neville without further comment. Judging by his flabbergasted look, he really had no idea what to make of the request. Neville didn't give it a second thought.

He headed for George's store, and it came back to him that Ron was working there once more. Neville wondered if Ron had settled back into that line of work again, and how Louis did there. Huh. What _did_ Louis do there? He'd never told Neville. Well, it didn't quite matter; Neville was just coming to repay his kindness.

"_Fine then! Just fire me already!_"

…or not.

Louis stormed out of the store and bumped into Neville. He was thoroughly peeved, but he recognized who he'd collided with—again. "Oh. Neville."

"Is everything all right?" What a dumb thing to ask! After all that yelling that could be heard from outside the store—

"No, it's not, thank you very much." Louis pushed past him, leaving it at that.

A part of Neville wished to see if some new explosion had happened in the shop…but he was more interested in Louis' attitude. He had known Louis to be a quick-to-anger child; perhaps that hadn't changed in adulthood. But he looked so upset right now.

He fell into step with Louis, which took more effort than it looked. Louis was of average height, but his legs were long, as were his strides, and he walked fast. It was like a workout for Neville. Eventually Louis slowed down, and his eyes darted to the taller man. "…are you all right? You're breathing hard."

"Don't…mind…me," Neville said cheerfully but with little breath.

Louis grimaced. "I don't really want any company right now, professor."

"Oh, I, uh…" Neville passed him the money. "For last time."

Louis took it—and laughed. It began as a chuckle, then turned into a laugh, and finally he guffawed, much to bystanders' dismay as he doubled over. "Really? _Really_?" He laughed hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. Once he got a hold of himself, Louis straightened up and swiped at his eyes. "Ah, professor…"

"Yes?"

"Forget what I said. This is exactly what I need." He jerked his thumb behind him. "You hungry? It's your lunch break, yeah?"

Neville's stomach growled in response.

"I know this great hot dog cart that sprouted up recently in the city. Come on." He tugged on Neville's sleeve and they left Diagon Alley behind.

Neville had to let Louis buy their food again (really, Neville needed to start carrying Muggle money on him; this was getting ridiculous), but they walked and ate as Louis calmed down. When he felt it safe to ask, Neville did: "What happened?"

"Agh…" Louis ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. "I was cleaning up the place and it turns out I cleaned up Uncle George's latest project."

"How did that happen?"

"It looked like shit."

Neville gave him a disapproving look.

Louis fumbled. "No, no, I mean it _looked_ like shit. I thought some animal had come in… So I cleaned it up. Uncle Ron was no help; he didn't tell me about it and so I didn't know it wasn't sh—_trash_," he amended when Neville shot him another look. "I'm just so _done_ working in yet another place that's a hostile environment."

"You couldn't explain it to them?"

"Didn't you ever learn anything about my family, professor? We're stubborn; it takes a few tries before words get through to us. Granted…" Louis sighed. "I'm half-Delacour. You'd think that'd count for something, but it doesn't. My sisters are the same way."

Neville nodded. "Yes… I quite remember Victoire in my classes. Very stubborn about getting the right answer, though that might've been why she was a Ravenclaw… I've seen her with Teddy, too. She's very Weasley."

Louis agreed. "Dominique's no different, to be truthful. My parents told her she couldn't go to Beauxbatons, so what does she do? Leaves to teach there."

"Huh. Really? Good for her."

The blond chuckled at him. "I thought you didn't approve of a timid teaching career."

Neville blushed, caught up in his own words thrown back at him. "Well, not for _me_. It's not for everyone—"

"I'm just teasing you, professor. Bugger. You don't know when to take a joke, do you?" The words sounded mean, but Neville could read it on his face: Louis was asking a real question. He meant no harm.

"Well, I suppose I've just always been like that. Funny—Ginny's asked me the same thing before." He grinned halfheartedly. "Luna never has, but I think it's because she's like me in that regard. We don't always get everyone's sense of humor."

Louis nodded. "It's all right not to. Sometimes you can save yourself a lot of pain and trouble by not understanding everything."

Neville wanted to comment, but he focused on Louis' words for a while. It was interesting to hear Louis speak such wisdom, though he was so young by Neville's measures. Neville almost laughed. Here he was, the adult, and yet he felt like such a kid.

They finished their food and continued to walk. Louis grumbled, "Merlin, I don't even know if I have a job to return to…"

"You should give it a shot," the older man said. "If you don't go back, then you're not doing yourself any favors."

"Running out on them didn't do me any favors, either," the badger stated dryly.

"Yes, but…family's family." Neville remarked. "And your family's the quickest to forgive. At least, so much as I've encountered."

Louis gave him a grateful look, and they returned to Diagon Alley in companionable silence. Neville walked him back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and Louis sighed. "Um…professor?"

"Really, stop calling me that, Louis."

The blond beamed. "Professor," he insisted, "do you always have lunch around this time?"

Neville shrugged. "Pretty much."

"I see. We should lunch together more often."

Neville thought nothing of it. "Fine with me, Louis." He was glad that Louis had shaken off his negative attitude. "And next time is my treat, promise," he added with a hint of dismay. It truly was embarrassing to have his meals paid for all the time.

- ^-^3

The more time he spent overseeing the Hit Wizards' operations, the more Neville wanted to strangle Harry for suggesting it and the more Neville appreciated the escape his lunches with Louis gave him, because one week with the Hit Wizards had turned into so much more than that. Louis had been right to call them "Hit Idiots"—their "hit first, ask questions later" attitude was worse than that of the Aurors. And it drove Neville nuts whenever they left him at the Ministry and reported later, because he'd begun to notice a pattern with them: They never canvassed the area and they never quarantined within a certain radius.

It wasn't the worst thing not to do, but Neville knew from his experience in the Auror Office that setting up a perimeter worked far better magic than rushing in headfirst did. Plus, they never asked questions of bystanders—potential witnesses! Even with magic exposed, Obliviators could always be called in. It was almost as if the Hit Wizards resented the presence of Obliviators, because they refused to call on them.

"So it's got me thinking of one task I _know_ I can do," Neville informed his boss as the better part of a month of observing the Hit Wizards wore on.

"You're going through their logs," Harry realized.

Neville smiled grimly. "I'm going through their logs."

"Cripes!" Harry's eyes widened and he flipped through some schedules. "I can loan you Al. Scorpius, too, maybe."

"No, no, it's all right. They should stay in the field and continue their training."

The doting father pouted.

"Harry! Come on. Albus wanted to be an Auror and he's come this far. You can't keep him locked up in the office forever. Besides, I'm sure Teddy looks out for him as much as you do. And Scorpius has always looked after him since their school days."

Harry groused.

"Besides, it's just going through old logs. I'll be fine, because the Hit Wizards are out of their office so much that I'll have peace and quiet to work."

"Won't you be lonely?"

Neville cocked his head to one side. "Don't protect your son from the world, Harry. Teach him how to handle it."

His fellow Auror at last gave in, though reluctantly, and Neville began his sedentary work. It was while Neville confined himself to that office when Louis stunningly appeared at the Ministry. He found his way to the Hit Wizard department without any trouble, and he surprised Neville. "Good afternoon, professor."

"_Merlin_!" Neville had had his back turned, and he dropped a thick records book on his foot. He yelped a second time.

"Sorry! Sorry…!" Louis pursed his lips. "Bad time?"

Neville smiled through the tears. "No, not at all… I'm just— How did you find me?"

"I peeked into the Auror Office and didn't see you there." Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest proudly. "Since you've been working with the Hit Idiots for so long, I knew this had to be the only other place you'd be."

The older man chuckled. It was nice to have a friend come looking for him. He'd forgotten the feeling. Or, had he ever experienced this before? Now he couldn't recall. He tried to focus on their conversation instead. "Ah, you're right… Since you're here, it must be lunchtime." He ran a hand over his face and looked at his watch. "Godric, I haven't even looked at the time."

"Are you busy?" Louis furrowed his brow. "I could leave. Or I could go grab takeaway, bring it back here for you."

"No, Louis, you don't have to do that—"

"But I want to."

Neville sighed. "I…I probably _should_ eat, shouldn't I?"

Louis made a noise that should've been accompanied by a shrug. "Meh. Chatting's just as fine. Give your mind a break."

Neville agreed, and he grabbed his cloak as he and Louis headed out. None of the Hit Wizards even gave them a second look. Neville tuned them out for a bit. "You've kept your job, I see," he said to Louis.

"Just barely. I bet Dad's leaning on Uncle George and Uncle Ron not to fire me."

The dark-haired man frowned. "Do you like it there?"

Louis studied him. "Three weeks later, and _now_ you're asking me that?"

"I—" Neville was flustered.

"No, it's fine. I think I've burned too many bridges to be allowed the luxury of liking where I work."

"But you should. Or you should at least feel good about working there." Neville tucked his scarf into his cloak's collar; it truly felt like November. "Take, for instance, my friend Seamus. Did you ever meet him, or Dean?"

"Finnigan or Thomas? Maybe as a kid. I don't really remember them, though."

"Well, Seamus worked at Quality Quidditch Supplies for a few years. He was good, but his boss was awful. Seamus stuck with it for a little longer before deciding to move back to Ireland. Dean went with him since they were best mates, and they opened a Quidditch store together in the city near Seamus' hometown. Now they both enjoy what they do."

Louis frowned. "Great. Now I'm envious of them."

Neville frowned, too. He hadn't meant to make Louis feel down. "What I mean is, you have the power to enjoy your workplace, or to find one better suited to you."

"No, I don't. I told you—"

"I know, I know. Eeylops, the Apothecary—no one wants to hire you on Diagon Alley."

"And the Muggle stores don't last any longer."

Neville burrowed his hands in his pockets while he thought. "Does it have to be a store? What about an office? Or some hobby you enjoy?"

Louis snorted. "Me, in an office? Yeah, right. And hobbies…" His brown eyes darkened dangerously. "I could fly, but not well enough for professional Quidditch teams." He grimaced as a minute passed in silence. "You know what? I'm not really hungry today." He shivered in the brisk wind.

The other wizard shook his head and removed his scarf to wrap it around Louis' neck, since Louis was wearing a letter jacket much too thin for this kind of weather. The scarf helped, Neville noticed; Louis' cheeks flushed with warm, rosy color. "Nonsense. You dragged me out of work and you're in the middle of pouring your heart out. The least I could do is feed you."

Louis shut up. In the maze of the Muggle crowd, they wound their way to some small, cozy restaurant, Louis gripping Neville's sleeve the whole time so as not to get lost.

- ^-^3

As the days got colder, Louis more frequently began to bring food to Neville. He liked holing up with the former professor in the back of the records room of the Hit Wizard department.

"So long as you don't spill anything," Neville had warned him the first time he'd shown up with what Louis proclaimed was "the best Chinese in Great Britain."

Each and every time, Louis always said, "I haven't spilled anything yet, have I?"

It was…so _nice_. This camaraderie. Neville realized his loved that word. "Camaraderie." It wasn't quite friendship by his standards—he looked at Harry and Ron, at Seamus and Dean, and thought of friendship—but it was more than just companionship. He and Louis didn't have to talk about anything under the sun; it was just nice to enjoy someone else's presence and yet to be able at the same time to say most things on his mind and just have a laugh about it. There was no pressure, nothing serious. Granted, Louis sometimes grew frustrated with him when they spoke about Louis' employment…"challenges," but there was no resentment between them.

One day in mid-December, Neville worked late and Louis worked through lunch. Neville thought, _Oh, all right, I'll just see him tomorrow then_. But then Louis had shown up anyway, despite the late hour.

Neville had been so touched that he blurted it out: "Since I'm almost done here, come over, and we can try dinner instead of lunch for once."

Louis gaped at him but then recovered. "…all right. You sure?"

"…yes. A change of pace can be nice."

"Your call."

Shortly after, Neville did in fact finish the log he'd been verifying and he bid Baddock good night, as the slightly younger man had the night shift. Neville led the way out of the Ministry. "Honestly, I don't think I even need to keep on what I'm doing there," he told Louis.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But if I finish gathering my information… Well, I'm fairly certain there will be an organizational overhaul for the Hit Wizards."

"No joke? Bloody hell, professor. You've stumbled into something, haven't you?"

Neville modestly laughed. "No…I just think—" He paused. He'd been about to Disapparate without Louis. "Ah, hold on, please."

Louis ducked his eyes and did as he was told.

The very next second, they were standing outside Neville's tiny apartment…and it hit him.

He said nothing, and Louis said nothing. But Neville could feel it looming over his head:

He'd never said a single _word_ about his divorce to Louis.

Surely Louis had been expecting to show up at the Leaky Cauldron…though maybe not, since they'd Disapparated instead of taking the quick walk from the Ministry to there, and Louis could've realized that. But this? This…this was…pathetic.

And Neville had never said a single thing.

"Um, we can go out someplace, Neville," Louis said softly. "I know a good place that's open this late. Really, it's no trouble—" He stopped when Neville said nothing.

Neville closed his eyes. It was morbidly funny to him, how all the time he'd spent with Louis had served as a distraction from his reality. Because here it was: Neville had escaped a loveless marriage, had dropped a lifeless job, had begun to feel alive again by doing the most dangerous job in the Wizarding world, and had found relief and enjoyment in the company of a man almost thirty years his junior. It sounded as messed up as the idea of Filch and Pince together.

"Neville?"

He didn't dare look. Blond hair, brown eyes—he should've known.

Louis patted his back gently. "Hey, I'll see you around, okay?"

Then he was all alone.

- ^-^3

For several days, Neville was on his own. Work, eat, sleep—he now had a routine. He'd never had a routine, not since his Hogwarts days.

He didn't see Louis, but that was only part of his worries. Truth be told, he knew he should've understood his own situation more, realized how it had affected him. He believed he'd unconsciously gone along with things, getting to know Louis more and enjoying their time together. But it was a cruel thing, to expect to him to almost fill the void Hannah had left.

Blond hair, brown eyes.

Blonde hair, brown eyes.

Him.

Her.

Both Hufflepuffs.

Both much too kind for their own good.

And both easily too close to Neville…no, that wasn't quite right. Hannah had worked at getting close to him. Only Louis had had it so easily, and maybe Neville had allowed that because subconsciously he had been drawn to a new friend who was a little like an old lover.

Still…it wasn't fair to Louis.

The more Neville mulled over it, the stronger his desire grew to explain everything to Louis. He wanted to clear the air so badly to the point where he was distracted at work. Even Harry said something to him.

"You all right, mate?" the Boy-Who-Won asked.

"Ah, yes…"

"Then do you have something for me? I was expecting you to be over with the Hit Wizards still."

"Hmm…" Neville blinked. "Sorry, what?"

Harry frowned. "Neville, where's your head?"

"Sorry, sorry…" He didn't answer Harry's question. "I just wanted to give you a head's up: When I'm done what I'm doing, you're going to need to have a word with Minister Shacklebolt."

"Is it that serious?"

"Yes and no. Not serious enough that something has to be done this minute, but serious enough that we _will_ need new management in that department."

Harry groaned. "For Merlin's sake… All right. Thanks for keeping me posted, Neville."

"Mm-hmm." He turned to go.

"And, Neville? Maybe it's not me, but find _someone_ to talk to, because you look ready to burst." Harry's eyes were so kind in that moment that Neville came back to his senses.

"Right. I, uh, I'll go do that now."

"Good."

And he did. He returned to the Hit Wizard department to grab his cloak as he'd left it there during his quick debriefing. He couldn't be totally sure that he'd find Louis at George's shop, but he knew it was a start. And if not there, then—well, he didn't know what he'd do.

Neville was careless as he marched up Diagon Alley, bumping into people, and went for the shop…but his pace slowed as he got closer. What was he thinking? Marching into George's store, looking for Louis… Did George or Ron even know Neville was friends with their nephew? Would that just create problems for Louis?

He came to a halt outside the store and peered in through the windows. It was quiet at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes today. Inside, he saw Verity sweeping up since few customers were around, and Ron was ringing someone up at the register. George must've been somewhere upstairs. Perhaps it was a good thing that Louis was not around.

With that thought in mind, Neville tried not to feel disappointment, though he did. He couldn't explain why, but he hated the thought of not clearing the air between them. It didn't feel right. Neville didn't do well with conflict, which was why this didn't feel right.

Still, he was forced to slog through the rest of his workday. Neville checked the shop again before heading home, but still there was no sight of Louis. Giving up for now, Neville returned to his apartment.

It was just a night, another night like all the rest before it. He came in, he took off his cloak which promptly got tossed onto the chair in the living room, and he opened his fridge to find food.

…no, this night was different. When he opened the fridge, he found he _had_ no food. He hadn't really been home enough lately to make real meals for himself. He'd been working or out with Louis.

Neville sighed and grabbed a gillywater. He went into the living room and went to sit in the chair, but he missed the edge and sat on the floor. What a perfect way to end the _perfect_ day.

_**KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.**_

Neville looked over his shoulder to glance at the door. Who the heck would show up at _his_ place?

He opened the door to find Louis standing there, in jeans and a still-not-thick-enough-for-winter jacket as usual. His nose matched the red sleeves of his jacket. "Heya. Can I come in?" Louis didn't even wait before he barged inside and shed his jacket.

"What are you doing here?" Neville asked. His nose caught something. "Did you—did you bring me food again?"

Louis shrugged. "Well, it's not lunch, but considering the time of night and that I like eating with you, I figured this was appropriate."

Neville was dumbfounded. "… What is it?"

"Thai. You ever had it?"

"No."

"Oh, good." Louis' eyes lit up with that devilish glint Neville had begun to recognize a while ago. "Then please, try some. I can't wait to see your eyes water—I mean, see your face when you enjoy it." Louis busied himself with grabbing plates and silverware—he ransacked Neville's kitchen until he found everything he needed—and then he dished up the food. He passed Neville a plate with various unfamiliar things on it, said "Eat," and then got cozy on the chair after kicking off his sneakers.

"Louis…what is all of this?" Neville kept glancing between his plate and the spread.

"Food," the blond stated stupidly.

Neville gave him a look. "I know _that_! But…"

Louis looked up at him. He had a rather masculine face shape, Neville noticed, and yet Louis at the same time had very feminine eyes and eyelashes. He took after his mother, the former professor supposed. "So, what are you waiting for? Sit down and eat."

Neville sighed exasperatedly and plopped down on the floor. "You're in the only chair in the room…"

"And whose fault is it that you don't have more furniture?"

There was no real argument there. The two men ate in silence, and Neville could sense that Louis was waiting for an opening to broach the subject. "Louis—"

"Just tell me what happened. Get it off your chest and make both of us feel better."

Neville's mouth went dry for a second, but then the words came bubbling up on their own. "Just understand one thing: No one's…" He struggled to find the right words.

"What? Hung out with you so much?"

"Not in a long time."

Louis shrugged. "You're not a charity case, you know. I like you."

Neville's smile was halfhearted, though. "Thank you…"

"You still feel like a charity case, don't you?" Louis sat up and reached across to stab some dumpling-like thing with his fork. But it didn't make it to his plate—he dropped it on Neville's shirt. "Oops."

"Please try to get more in you than on me," Neville griped, wiping himself off. "And yes, I guess I do feel that way."

"Why?"

The word hung in the air. Neville pushed the food around on his own plate. Now that he thought about it, he didn't really have an appetite. "…you look like her."

"Oh my Merlin—did you really just say that?" Louis' tone was annoyed, but he said it so quietly. He took a deep breath and then continued, more loudly, "Could you be any simpler?"

Neville glanced at him over his shoulder. "That's mean."

Louis winked. "_Exactly_. Just because I've got yellow hair and brown eyes, you were beginning to draw comparisons, weren't you? I'm not Hannah Abbott, though."

"It's not just physically—"

"I'd hope not, 'cause I'm a guy."

"—but personality-wise. You're both very honest, and extremely kind—"

"And that's why I said 'exactly.' Neville, I'm not kind. I'm a bitch."

Neville couldn't help it; he snorted. "Erm…wouldn't the term be…'bastard'?"

Louis smirked. "Look at Professor Squeaky-Clean, finally cursing! But nah, 'bitch' is an attitude, not a gender-specific description. Look, Neville, I don't go out of my way to be nice. In fact, I'm a fairly good-for-nothing bloke. Please," he said, and there was something in his eyes that made Neville want to nod and at the same time wrap a comforting arm around the bloke, "don't ever think of me as kind."

It was probably safest to let that be that, so the pureblooded wizard shrugged noncommittally.

"By the way, nice place."

With that, they both laughed, and it was as if everything were the same again.

At the end of the night, they'd consumed maybe half of the food Louis had bought (honestly, Neville was trying to like Thai food, but…). Neville began to clean up since their conversation had died down. He turned to ask Louis for help, but he saw Louis had fallen asleep turned sideways in the chair and with his chin tucked in to his chest. The older man stood and cleared everything away, but he didn't have the heart to wake his young friend. As a result, he draped an old favorite blanket of his over Louis.

Louis jostled, but he remained asleep.

"Really, Louis," Neville mumbled to himself. "If you don't go out of your way to be nice, then what was all this about?"

- ^-^3

Harry looked happier than usual right after Christmas. Neville didn't even have to ask before Harry asked him, "So, Neville, anything you want to tell me?"

Neville froze. It was like being in front of McGonagall, red-handed. Or worse: In front of Ginny when she wanted to dish about one's love life. "Um…like what?"

"Your work's back on track," his friend said. "You're happier than normal. And…"

Oh, Godric. It was coming—

"I heard from Renn that you go out to eat a lot."

Neville blinked and smiled in relief. "Oh, yes. That makes sense. They've probably seen us. Just friends, you know. Good company."

"Really?" Harry almost looked disappointed.

"What?" Neville tugged on his shirt collar. "You sound like Ginny, you know. There's nothing to gossip about."

Harry looked mortified. "No—I—" He held his head in his hands. "…did I really just sound like Ginny?"

"Sorry, mate…"

The Potter sighed. "I blame both her and Hermione, then." His eyes slid back to Neville. "So there's nothing going on in your life? You really do seem happier. I meant that."

Neville's face grew a little warm. "Not really. He and I just happened to—"

"He?" His expression told Neville that they were having two different conversations.

"Wait, did you think I was dating someone?" Neville laughed it off. "Harry, come on. I could never get Luna, I couldn't hold on to Hannah—what makes you think I'd cast a line again?"

Harry coughed. "Sorry, sorry…just… What friend? Do I know him?"

"I suppose Renn didn't know him? It's Louis."

Harry, for a fraction of a second, looked wary. "Wait…my nephew, Louis Weasley?"

"Yeah."

Harry frowned. "Neville, you should stay away from him. He tries, but nothing good ever comes from dealing with him."

Neville couldn't believe his ears. He'd always thought Louis was being modest when he said things like that, but to hear _Harry_ talking that way, too? Neville furrowed his brow. "Harry, that's an awful thing to say about a relative."

The other man shook his head. "No, Neville, you don't understand. Louis is a loner for a reason. He—"

Neville grimaced. "Harry…I'm sorry. But if I'm going to hear something like that, I'd rather hear it straight from Louis himself. You know I don't do hearsay." His eyes softened. "If I did, I would've given up on you back in seventh year."

Harry opened his mouth and closed it. His expression was pained, and he averted his gaze. "Maybe you would've," he uttered.

It was the first time that Neville left still upset with Harry. But he didn't want to apologize for his words; he wanted Harry to be the one to apologize.

Granted, his unease didn't disappear even when he saw Louis later, though his mood lightened a bit. Louis had taken to splitting up their mealtimes between lunch sometimes near the Ministry and takeout for dinner at Neville's place. He was starting to make it a regular thing, and Neville noted that the younger wizard had grown far too comfortable there. The problem? That Neville didn't seem to mind. But…

"You've got something on your mind, I can tell," Louis said to him. It was early in the second week of January, and Neville wasn't working because it was Saturday and Louis' hours on the weekend had been reduced so he wouldn't be going in to work until three o'clock. In other words, Neville had been trying to sleep in and Louis had come over to bother him.

Neville pursed his lips. He was much too timid to blurt out the hurtful things he'd heard. "It's nothing," he fibbed. He fought a yawn and went to make himself toast, only to give up halfway and butter bread instead. He yelped when something poked his side, and he stared at Louis. "What the hell—?!"

Louis laughed. "Seriously? I was just poking you. You're all disheveled, professor, showing a scandalous amount of skin."

The older man glared at the younger and tucked his pajama shirt into his pajama pants. "You are a—"

"Yes?" The blond smirked. "A what?"

"A brat."

He beamed. "Thank you very much." Louis stretched and grabbed one of the slices of bread from Neville's hand. "So then tell me what's on your mind at this ungodly hour of eight-thirty."

Neville sighed and buttered another slice for himself. "I just… I overheard…" He winced. Would it be best to rip off the bandage?

"Rip it off already," Louis ordered, reading his mind.

Neville's dark eyes darted to his companion. "I overheard some unkind things about you, and they bothered me."

Louis put the bread down, and his chewing slowed. "What did you hear?"

"Only that you're supposed to be a loner, that no one should be near you."

For a while, Louis was utterly still. He stared at the tiny kitchen table. He leaned on it with his elbow and cupped his cheek in the palm of his left hand. When he looked back at Neville, his orange-brown eyes were smoldering; they looked like toasted cedar. "That's probably wise."

Neville grew frustrated. He was put in mind of his school days when his Housemates would say things and he was slow to catch up and they'd smile and shrug and tell him it was all right that he didn't understand. Godric! He was so sick of being reminded of those days! Hadn't he outgrown them? He was a man now! He had—he had been feeling _old_ lately. At least, until he'd met Louis, who for some reason made him feel unsure of himself all over again, with his smart-aleck, all-knowing attitude. "I wish everyone would just stop telling me what's good and what's not good to do," he groused, tearing his gaze away from his unnerving friend.

Louis sighed. "I think people do because you give off this kind of…I dunno, helpless animal vibe?"

The older man blushed. "_What_?"

"You're not scary, professor. You're a pretty timid fellow."

Neville glared at him. "You're wrong."

"Oh?"

"Because when I was warned about you, I told the person that they were wrong, and that I had no intention to end our friendship." He deflated a smidge. "I just want one thing—for you to tell me why you and others say these things about you."

Louis nodded. "All right."

"Really?" The response caught Neville off-guard.

"Yes, just not tonight. Give me just a bit of time, will you? Then I'll be honest. Totally honest."

"Okay, then."

"And, professor?"

"Hmm?"

Louis laughed, and Neville liked that. "You really need to buy some real food around here…!"

- ^-^3

When the day came, Neville was caught unawares.

Finally he'd given Harry the ammunition to take to Kingsley. Harry couldn't believe the large stack of notes Neville had compiled. "This is ridiculous, mate," he'd breathed in amazement as he skimmed them.

"Yeah, well, they got sloppy. We just didn't know it until now. Good thing you decided to send me over there."

"Good thing I sent _you_ over there." Harry smiled. "If I'd sent Ron, he would've decided on actions alone and tried a hostile takeover." They shared in a laugh, and Neville went to leave the office. "Neville? Where are you going?"

"I figured I'd tidy up their back office a bit, since I've been living there, nearly."

Harry chuckled gently. "All right… Then after that, just go home. You've done some good work."

"Nothing glamorous."

"But something safe."

Neville caught Harry's fleeting look then, and he thought about his words as he left for the Hit Wizard department. Huh. So maybe that was it. It wasn't that Harry didn't need him in the field or anything. On the contrary, Harry had wanted to protect him, as he'd tried to protect Al by sending Al along. Neville rubbed the back of his neck. So much for the exciting life of the Auror…and yet, he was a tad flattered.

Cain and Low were much too delighted to see Neville go. Renn held Cain back, though, and Neville didn't blame her. It wasn't that he wished them to be fired, but they knew plenty well that that might probably happen. Neville tried not to let that get to him; it had been on them to keep their records straight, after all.

After he was done, he did as Harry asked and left the Ministry early. Neville almost went home, but he chose instead to walk to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and see if Louis was working. Again, he didn't see him, but Neville had a feeling he'd bump—

"Ah, there you are."

Louis' face was bright and cheery. For once, he was properly dressed for the weather. "I didn't know you were looking for me," the older man said, and he couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face.

"Lonely souls always seek out lonely souls." He playfully linked an arm through Neville's and tugged. "Now, come on! It's time for lunch!"

"Actually…I've the rest of the day off."

The blond male's eyes lit up. "No joke? Perfect! Then I get to do whatever I want with you today."

Neville chortled. "I suppose so!"

Things flashed by them as if they were on a train. Louis wanted to go here, there; they stopped at a dozen different stores if only for Louis to make fun of the window displays; Louis dragged him to a candy store and Neville thought of Honeydukes because the candies were that good; and they ate snacks here and there, never stopping for a full meal.

It wasn't until dusk arrived that Neville realized hours and not minutes had passed. "My Godric!" Neville glanced at his watch. "It's this late already?!"

"Nine-thirty isn't very late, professor," Louis teased. "Besides, the city comes alive at night."

Neville almost said, "Maybe for you young people," but it occurred to him that that was something his old, timid self would say. And he was trying to be anything but timid tonight.

He let Louis lead him to the doors of a few loud music clubs, but they never stayed long. The music was all right, but it was much too loud. Neville couldn't hear his own thoughts, much less Louis standing right beside him. At one point, when they visited the last one of the evening, Louis turned to him and said something. Neville wasn't good at reading lips, but it looked something like, "I'm okay." Louis raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response. He looked nervous.

"I'm fine!" Neville shouted back. He gave Louis a thumbs-up to help convey his reply, and Louis brightened up once more.

They left the night scene sometime around one in the morning, and Neville couldn't fathom it. Even in the dorms as a teen, he'd never stayed up so late. At least outside, he and Louis could hear each other again. "You all right?" Louis shouted. Their ears were still ringing.

"I'm knackered." Neville shook his head. "Time to head home."

Louis nodded and waited while Neville got his bearings. Then he Disapparated and let them into his apartment. The sudden quiet helped them regain their hearing.

"I must say," Neville said, still a little loudly, "I've never done anything like that before in my entire life."

The younger wizard laughed as he stretched out on his back on the floor between the little coffee table and the tiny chair. "That was _awesome_."

Neville rolled his eyes. "Of course you think that," he remarked, stepping over Louis to sit down with a cold glass of water. "You're bonkers."

"Ah-ha…yeah, I guess I am."

Neville sipped his drink and leaned back in his chair. He ran a hand over his face. "Ugh… I've never been so tired before in my entire life." He could even feel the glass slipping from his grip.

Louis sat up and took it from him, setting it on the table. "Damn. I didn't think you'd be _that_ tired. Can you even get up?"

Neville tried, but not in earnest. "…no. Guess I'll just sleep in the chair tonight."

Louis smiled and nodded as Neville closed his eyes. "Sorry about this, Professor Defenseless."

The older wizard managed a weak, tired smile. "Hey, I'm not de—"

His words didn't emerge. They were swallowed by the peck on the lips Louis gave him. Neville didn't even have enough strength to open his eyes fully, but he could see a little of the scene before him through his dark eyelashes. Louis' mouth was on his, and Louis was holding his jaw delicately, as if he might break like the water glass.

For a brief moment, Louis pulled away, and Neville struggled to say something. "What are—"

Louis kissed him again, deep and hard. He backed off for a second and locked eyes with Neville. His gaze was so sad and pained. "I told you once before, professor. I'm not a kind person." He leaned in close, kneeling on the chair with one knee pressed perilously close between Neville's legs. His breath was warm and moist at the older man's ear. "I am the most selfish person you'll ever meet."

Neville was…horrified. He had never dreamed of this.

Louis' mouth left his lips and made a stop at his jaw before continuing down his neck. At the same time, Louis' hands fumbled with Neville's belt. Louis slid off him and, the next thing Neville knew, Louis' head was between his legs.

He couldn't determine what was worse. What was going on—Louis touching him so intimately, his mouth moving so expertly, his care coming so softly…

Or the fact that, even if he'd had the energy, Neville wasn't sure he'd stop Louis.

_You idiot_, Neville scolded himself. _What did you do? Did you lead him on? Did you make him think you were this way? And are you really becoming aroused by his ministrations?!_

Far off in his mind, something clicked: Louis had not said "I'm okay" at the club. He'd said "I'm gay."

And somewhere along the line, Neville had not only led him on but had led him astray and gotten his hopes up.

Louis kept going until Neville was released. Then he cleaned Neville up, but not himself. Instead, he bent over the reclined form of the former professor and smiled deviously…but weakly. Neville squinted, because Louis looked ready to say something else. But he did not. No, he kissed Neville again—oh, cripes, it was sticky and revolting (no, no, no, _not_ arousing, _not_ arousing, go down, you—!)—and exhaled. It was a borderline sigh.

Then Louis did something even more unexpected: He sweetly kissed Neville's forehead. And left.

Neville…had no clue what to do. Call for help? Go after Louis? Chase him down and…punish him? Embrace him? Had that really been three months of friendship gone down the crapper? …no, it wasn't friendship, not to Louis; that much was obvious. But it was too much to think about these shocking things. All Neville could hold on to was that pained look on Louis' face, and it haunted his dreams…

- ^-^3

Neville knew he'd become somewhat withdrawn afterwards. Thankfully, Harry never pressed him. He was glad. He didn't want to admit that Harry had been right.

Still, a part of Neville fought that. What made Harry right? What made Louis right? All those things they said about Louis… Louis wasn't a terrible person.

(Of course, he had to be careful when he thought that, because then his body would betray him and respond, and it was getting harder not to bring attention to himself.)

But then what _was_ Louis? _Not_ a lover. Neville didn't think of men or of Louis that way. All he knew, as January faded and February grew old, was that he missed the good times with Louis. But had he any right to search for Louis and ask for things to go back to the way they'd been? He didn't think so, not with knowing that Louis was sexually attracted to him. That changed things. It always changed things.

Besides, he was beginning to feel old again, and Neville understood. He'd been using Louis. He'd wanted to feel young again—why else would he have returned to the Auror Office in the first place? Befriending someone refreshing like Louis was just the icing on the cake. So he'd used Louis to regain his youth. Maybe, in some morbid sense, Louis was justified in taking what he'd wanted, as well.

(And it wasn't as though Neville could deny how good Louis was. But it frightened him even to think about how Louis had gained his talents.)

He was such a masochist. He'd brought this pain upon himself, and now he'd shared it with Louis. Louis might've been a dark character before, but Neville had only made him darker.

- ^-^3

February passed. March arrived.

Louis stayed away. Neville didn't go looking for him.

Neville didn't forget what had happened, though he was doing his best to let it go and to share the blame instead.

- ^-^3

March fluttered away. April drizzled in.

Louis who? Neville had few friends, and they were all in the Auror office.

Everything that had happened in three months (November, December, January) suddenly felt like a few minutes.

- ^-^3

April breezed by. May stumbled in.

Neville was back to normal. Work, eat, sleep—that was the life of a single Auror.

Cain and Low weren't fired, but they were demoted. Renn was promoted for the time being, but Minister Shacklebolt was seriously considering giving either Baddock or Pritchard the chance to run the Hit Wizards. Neville's investigation had been a success, and now Minister Shacklebolt was developing a team to test other departments. The Ministry had never had a system of checks and balances before. Now, they might.

- ^-^3

May was gone in a flash. June appeared hotly.

Neville was working with Harry, getting things straightened out considering the candidates to join Neville's new team. "Kingsley was right, asking you to head your own office," Harry said admiringly.

The other wizard grunted. "Another desk job—it's a sign."

"Oh?"

"Maybe teaching was for me, after all."

Harry gave him a gentle grin and patted his shoulder. "You'll be fine, Neville."

"As long as we pick a good team, of course."

Harry didn't even bother trying to explain that he meant something else entirely.

Out in the larger area of the Auror Office, Victoire arrived to see Teddy. They were still engaged, but things were looking up for them these days; they were considering marrying sometime next year. But she was talking in rushed tones to him, loud enough to catch Neville's and Harry's attention.

"Everything all right, Victoire?" Harry asked, sticking his head out.

Victoire furrowed her orange brow. "Oh, yeah…I guess. It's my brother, Uncle Harry."

Neville's ears perked up. He'd heard nothing from or of Louis for five months.

"What's he done now?" Harry asked, pulling the door shut behind him.

Neville wanted to chide Harry. As if it would hurt him to hear about Louis! (Because surely Harry had noticed Neville didn't go out and said little these days.) Luckily, the door didn't latch, so it creaked partially open, and Harry didn't hear it.

"Well, he'd been mooching off me and Teddy for a little bit. Once Uncle George finally fired him, he went to live with Dominique and Lysander. Just when Dom told me she was about to kick him out, she found he'd left. She gave it two days, but now no one knows where he is."

Neville's eyes widened. His stomach fell through the floor.

"_What_?" Harry cursed. "Have you tried his friends?"

Victoire must've thrown her hands up in the air, because there was a sound like her palms falling and smacking her legs. "What friends, Uncle Harry? Even in our family, Hugo wasn't that close to him, and they're the youngest. Hugo recalled a somewhat friend of theirs, an Olsha Maeve, but she wrote that she hasn't seen him since graduation. It was the same with their roommates, Henry Benton and John Cauldwell. They've not seen him since last year."

Teddy groaned. "I hate to voice the elephant in the room…but maybe it's time to… Merlin, I can't word this right. I can't say it. I just can't."

"I'm not giving up on my brother, Teddy." Victoire scoffed. "He's still my brother. I mean, there's got to be some good in him. And…" Her voice was wet. "I'm sure someone would miss him if he really disappeared. I know I would. I'm sure Dom would. I—I don't know about anyone else, though, because he's always been a handful."

"Well, he barely managed to graduate, yeah. And he's lazy and always getting fired."

"But he's not evil."

"He's just not a kind person, Vic. Maybe…"

Neville knew what Teddy was trying to avoid saying: "Maybe the world is better off without Louis." But Neville knew that was a lie. And Louis _was_ a kind person. He knew it! In his mind's eye, he kept replaying the night that Louis had barged in and force-fed him Thai food and had laughed his pains away with him. Louis was his _friend_, his close friend, his real friend—his only true friend.

He would miss him if he disappeared.

Neville steeled himself and put his work away. He opened the door, startling Harry, Teddy, and Victoire, and he humbly ducked his head. "Sorry. Didn't mean to intrude. Harry, I'll give you lot some privacy and finish my work elsewhere."

"Yes, of course," Harry said, but he missed the determination in Neville's eyes.

Neville was going to find Louis.

Granted, he didn't know where to start. Diagon Alley was going to be a miss. London was too large to search. All the places Louis had taken him to, they were too numerous.

And yet Neville searched each and every single one.

But the day ended and night came, and still Neville had not found him. For the first time in a very long time, Neville's heart ached. He really missed Louis, and he cared for the stubborn little bugger. He had been wrong ever to make Louis uncomfortable. If he thought about it, it went back to the first time he meant to have Louis over and he'd finally seen the comparisons to Hannah and—

Hold on.

Neville Disapparated from the edge of the city and Apparated to the front door of the Leaky Cauldron. He had a hunch…

He hadn't been inside the pub for years. He was surprised Hannah wasn't at the bar, and he didn't even recognize the bloke working. But none of that mattered at the moment. Neville was looking for another blond tonight.

The Auror tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as he scanned the faces of the patrons. But one quick look told him Louis wasn't at a table. He glanced and saw he wasn't at the bar either. Then he checked the booths, and he found Louis tucked into one before a corner booth.

Louis wore regular jeans that were a little tattered at the hems, as if he'd been doing a lot of walking or running. Despite the heat, he still wore one of his thin sweatshirts. Otherwise, he looked fit and healthy; he was just lost in thought. He had a small rucksack beside him, too, as if he were ready to hop away at a moment's notice. But he didn't see Neville.

"Hey."

Louis flipped to face him. His expression was that of a guilty first year caught in Hogsmeade.

Neville stood there. He didn't want to sit beside Louis and send more mixed messages, but he didn't want to sit across from him either and give Louis the opportunity to escape before they spoke. So Neville remained standing, but he edged over so that he blocked Louis' exit.

"What are you…" Louis shook his head. "How did you find me?"

"Um, process of elimination."

"How do you mean?"

Neville gave a glib summation of what had happened during the day concerning Victoire. He left out some comments, especially Teddy's, but it was enough to fill in the blanks. "And I—I didn't know what to do besides check every place we'd ever been."

Louis' expression softened and his eyes turned glassy, but he determinedly looked away. "You didn't have to. That's why I came _here_."

"Oh. You were counting on me never setting foot again in here?"

The other man nodded.

Neville took a breath and decided it was safe to sit across from Louis. "Hey. Look at me."

Louis refused.

"Look… You…" But what could he say? He hadn't mentioned Teddy's comments, even though they were exactly the things Neville had come to publicly refute.

"No one needs me, I know. Nor does anyone want me. I know that, too." Louis stared out the window. "I'm not having a pity-party, just so we're clear. I was just leaving."

"But where?" Neville frowned. His adrenaline was wearing off, and now he breathed hard.

Louis glanced at him, and his cheeks flushed. "I, uh…dunno. I hadn't quite figured that part out yet."

There it was. The old Louis. The good Louis. The real Louis. It was enough to bring a bright smile to Neville's face. "That so?"

"Oh, shut up, Professor Twat," the blond grumbled, but he was turning beet red.

"It's not true, though," Neville stated. "You'd be missed, if you left."

"Shyeah, by Vic, and maybe Dom." Louis rolled his eyes. "But no one has any need of a good-for-nothing bastard."

"I thought you were a bitch?"

Louis looked at him, but he was fighting a smirk. "You think you're so smart, flinging my own words back at me."

Neville shrugged. "Your words, and your thoughts." He leaned across the table. "But your thoughts are not unique, Louis. I've had the same ones about myself."

"…what?"

"It took me decades before I believed I had a purpose or had any use for anyone. Because, let's face it, no one lives for themselves alone. It's natural to want to be useful, to be wanted and needed by at least one other." Neville raised his eyebrows. "Sometimes I still feel that way."

"Are we making this a contest? Who's more pathetic?"

"No, of course not."

"Good, 'cause I win. I'm an idiot and an arse."

"Well, I'm not street-smart like you and I'm a pushover."

Louis finally smirked. "Sounds like a tie to me."

Neville smiled, relieved. "It does."

But Louis' smirk lessened. "This isn't some weird love confession, is it?"

"Uh, no…" Neville rolled his shoulders. "I'll be honest, I still can't figure out how I feel about what happened. But that doesn't change you, and it doesn't affect my opinion of you all that much. I've been keeping things separate."

"Compartmentalizing—very nice." Louis crossed his arms and leaned on the table, too. At least he was facing Neville again. "If that's the case, then why did you come here?"

Neville's face grew warm. "I at least know I don't want you to disappear anywhere."

Louis scoffed and looked away. "There's nothing here for me anymore, Neville. I was fired, and I've been blacklisted from just about every store within a five- or ten-mile radius." He looked back, brown eyes meeting brown eyes.

The older man shook his head. "I am not asking you to stay because of me. I am only telling you that I _will_ miss you if you leave. It is up to you to choose for yourself what you want to do."

The blond nodded and grew quiet. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around. When he settled again on Neville, he didn't meet his eyes. Instead, he reached for Neville's clasped hands. He hesitated, and then he barely stroked the skin on the back of Neville's right hand.

Neville bit his tongue and he dared not react. Surely it was just a side-effect, just his body remembering the last time Louis had touched him in any way? He subtly crossed his legs and stared at the gold strands in Louis' hair. He wanted only Louis' friendship back, only his companionship.

His act must've been good, because Louis sighed and nodded. "All right, all right… Yeah, I won't leave."

"You should probably tell your sisters that, or at least Victoire. She was worried enough to go see Teddy during the day."

"So you said." Louis pulled away from him. "I want to stay. I do. Too much of my family's local or well within Apparating distance."

Neville gave him a tight smile and ignored the feeling of missing Louis' touch. "Sounds like a plan."

"Except I have no place to stay."

Neville nodded reluctantly. "Well…so long as you behave and you find another job soon, it's all right if you stay with me."

"Really?"

Neville studied Louis' face. Was it his imagination, or did he no longer see something more in Louis' eyes? Maybe now…now Louis really was just his good friend. "Yes," the Auror said with a fleeting grin.

"Wow, thanks." Louis appeared genuinely grateful. "Dunno what I'll tell Vic…or if I'll tell her at all… But thanks."

Neville stood and waited for Louis to get out of the booth. He took the smaller male's bag for him. "Good. Now, if you must say thanks and if you're going to apologize for running away and making me worry, then you can buy dinner."

Louis stuck his tongue out at him, but he laughed. "Who's the brat now, professor?"

"Oh, shut up, will you? Let's just go home."

"Sure thing, mate."

Ah, yes, Neville was beginning to feel young again. Mood-swinging-ly, uncomfortably, self-consciously, insecurely, assuredly young again.

- ^-^3

**OH SHIT. *fails* This fic was a REAL challenge for me, because I wanted something that ended almost unhappily, but I was trying to be a bit more realistic. Plus, Neville comes across as so straight, so masculine (not saying that the two are exclusive) that he would have a hard time going along with Louis' affections. Louis…has always seemed gay to me (I know, I know, next-gen are really just names without personalities), but I do think I've held on well to my head-canon for him. And writing Neville's always a treat, though I adore him best with Victoire (another M&MWP—the first one, thank you very much -w-). Still, I've been thinking about these two for a while, and I think it's a real challenge, having a couple where someone remains adamantly heterosexual and the other one's got no qualms though isn't flashy about being homosexual. Though I'm sure if you've made it this far to my A/N then you've taken the hint that Neville's not wondering about **_**men**_** but maybe at least about Louis… And, oh, so many motifs in this story! XD The number three, food, touch… And the theme of disliking oneself… Urgh, whatta recipe for two charries who have more in common than even I originally thought! I really liked this story in the end, and I want to write more of them in the future… At least two fics, maybe…? ****Note****: The OCs Cain, Low, and Renn are allusions to three main characters in Derek Landy's **_**Skulduggery Pleasant**_** series, which I also adore. I switched the genders here, but the social politics are the same, *lol*.**

**Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and please review! Please, **_**please**_** don't favorite this without reviewing, though!**

**-mew-tsubaki :')**

**P.S.—A much-deserved shout-out and thanks to my twin, ****Morghen****, for beta'ing. I know it's been a while, hon, but you helped me realize that I loved this story in the end. **_**Mor**_** Louville, yes? ;D**


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